Take Apart Your Head
by awakemysoulx
Summary: Dean has always been the confident one, always had everything together, no matter what tragedies have occurred. But as he starts unraveling, how will it affect the world, and people, around him?


For once, I wish I could have a day jam-packed with self-loathing. Just for twenty four hours. I could sit in a cheap motel room bed and feel sorry for myself. Maybe get so drunk I don't remember everything that's happened in the past that has made me this way. But I've tried that before, and all I was left with was a massive hangover and a gag reflex.

Sometimes I wish I would fall asleep and never wake up.

Sometimes I'm a coward.

Sometimes I wish all those times I've died, I stayed dead.

I would never speak these thoughts aloud though. I would never let Sam know how weak I really am feeling. How my body aches all day, how the headaches get so bad that I wish I could smash my head into the dashboard of the impala.

But I can't do any of that. Sammy needs me, hell, the world needs me. Since when was all of this weight left on my shoulders? Why does all of this have to be my problem? Oh wait, I forgot, "The Family Business." If only the family business was, say, being mechanics. I could work all day in my own shop, come home to maybe a girlfriend, wash the dirty oil from my hands, and that would be it. No thoughts of impending doom, no thoughts of what evil could be lurking outside of my house, no other lingering thoughts; I would just be content.

That will never be the life I have, though.

I will always be scared.

I will always be running from something.

I will always feel unsafe.

Thinking any differently is a big, wide, pipe dream.

The worst part of it is when I think about my little brother. He had so much going for him before I showed up at his door all those years back. I was selfish then. Part of me wanted him to feel some of this burden that's been burying itself deeper and deeper into my shoulders. He had been done with this, he wanted a life outside of this so-called family business, and now, how can I blame him for that? I think a lot about how he'll never be able to have a family, he can never settle down. I want that more for him than for myself.

"Dean, come here, I think I've found something." Sam said, waving me over from my spot on the bed. I was lying under the covers, my body planted firmly onto the not-so-comfortable mattress, hoping that somehow I'd be able to stay in bed all day. Who was I kidding? We were working a job, no time to waste when lives were at stake. I groaned as I pushed myself out of the warm blanket and onto my feet, walking over to Sam sitting at the aged wooden table, with his laptop open, eyes squinting onto the web page he was on.

"So I found a website filled with this town's old supposed haunted houses—are you okay?" Sam asked, turning from the bright screen of his laptop to my face as I stood behind him, hand on the back of his chair, looking over his shoulder at the screen.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine Sammy," I told him, brushing off any kinds of thoughts he had about me being anything but alright. "Just tell me what you found." He stared back at me for a couple seconds, disbelief written all over his face, but he seemed to ignore it for the time being.

He turned back to the website, "Yeah, anyways, I found out that the family who lived in the house before them, was murdered by the father-" His words faded in and out of my ears, I couldn't help but think of what would happen to Sam if I ever left him. I thought about this whenever it seemed like I wouldn't be making it out of a job alive. I'm sure at first he would come looking for me, even though we promised each other we wouldn't do that. Probably after a couple months of coming up short, he'd settle in one city, and maybe instead of searching local lore, he'd be online looking up local colleges. Am I the one who's holding him back from doing that, then? From being happy?

"Dean, hello, did you hear me?" Sam asked, turning around to bore his eyes right into me. I know he could see through my façade, but that didn't stop me from brushing him off. "Yeah, Sam I heard you. A regular ol' salt and burn," I replied, dismissing any kind of second thoughts he may be having, "let's get going." I grabbed my brown jacket, looking around the room for my boots. He knew better than to question me.

We both made our way to the Impala, locking the motel room door behind us. Sliding into the car, our doors slammed in unison. I sighed, starting the car, the sudden roar of the engine masking it. Maybe working this job will make me feel okay, maybe killing something will help.

_  
**A/N:** This chapter is pretty short, I kinda just wanted to get something out there. The other chapters will be much longer, since I have a lot in store for this story. This is the first chapter fic I've written in a long time, so hopefully I'll have it updated a couple times a week! Reviews would be awesome! Feel free to write what you'd like to see in this story, I'm more than open to suggestions! Thanks for reading!


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